<?53 

"   i.  MIDSUMMER  MEMORY 


BURTON 


UC-NRLF 


B    3    SMfl    125 


LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


GIFT    OF 


•  ~< 


Class 


Presented  by  a  number  of  those  who  enjoyed  the 
delightful  talks  of  Dr.  Burton  in  the  Sunaner  Session 
of  1910,  these  books  are  placed  in  the  University  Lib« 
rary  for  the  stimulation  of  those  who  were  unable  to 
hoar  him  then,  and  for  the  further  pleasure  of  those 
so  privileged. 


A  MIDSUMMER  MEMORY 


A  Midsummer  Memory 

An  Elegy  on  the  Death  of  Arthur  Upson 


By 
Richard  Burton 


• 


Minneapolis 

Edmund  D.   Brooks 

1910 


COPYRIGHT  1910  BY 
RICHARD  BURTON 


THE    TORCH    PRESS 
CEDAR    RAPIDS 

IOWA 


This  Edition  consists  of  Five  Hundred  Copies 
on  handmade  paper  of   which  this  is  number 


211014 


NOTE 

Arthur  Upson,  whom  the  following  poem  com 
memorates,  was  drowned  from  his  boat  in  Be- 
inidji  Lake,  Minnesota,  in  the  early  evening  of 
August  14,  1908,  in  the  thirty-second  year  of  his 
age.  A  lyric,  just  written,  found  in  the  empty 
boat,  is  the  "swan  song"  referred  to  in  stanza 
XL VI  of  the  elegy.  He  had  that  very  day  com 
pleted  a  poetic  drama  entitled  "Gauvaine  of 
The  Betz,"  dealing  with  the  Pornic  legend  of 
Gold  Hair;  but  the  manuscript  disappeared  with 
him  and  has  never  been  found.  During  some  ten 
years  of  literary  activity,  he  published  half  a 
dozen  volumes  of  verse  and  since  his  death  his 
collected  poems  have  appeared  in  two  large  vol 
umes.  Before  his  passing,  recognition  had  come 
to  him  from  distinguished  critics  and  he  was 
known  to  the  few  who  treasure  good  poetry;  the 


publishing  of  his  collected  works  has  already 
begun  to  secure  the  wider  hearing  his  song  de 
serves. 

It  was  under  the  branches  of  an  ancient  yew 
tree  in  the  garden  of  Wadham  college,  Oxford, 
that  Upson  conceived  the  i  i  Octaves  in  an  Oxford 
Garden,"  one  of  his  best  works.  The  yew  was 
his  favorite  tree  and  was  used  as  a  design  for  his 
note  paper.  There  is  an  allusion  to  this  in  stan 
zas  XXXVII-XXXVIII.  The  poet's  predilic 
tion  for  the  water,  also  alluded  to  in  the  elegy, 
was  well-known  to  his  intimate  friends. 


A  MIDSUMMER  MEMORY 
I 

Swift  April  ardours  bring  the  white  of  May, 

May  merges  into  leafy  June,  and  all 
Mid  splendours  of  full  summer  gild  the  day 

And  make  the  night  an  odorous  festival 
'Twixt  star  and  sod ;  and  yet,  how  wan  the  cheer, 
I  miss  thee,  Arthur,  thou  no  more  art  here 
To  taste  the  beauty,  laud  the  crescent  year. 


II 


Strange  is  thine  absence,  since  no  son  of  man 
Felt  deeplier  in  his  blood  the  summer  lure ; 

Nor  sang  more  sweetly,  while  the  caravan 
Of  months  passed  stately  by,  nor  was  so  sure 

To  list  shy  sounds,  to  smell  the  hidden  flowers 

And  rediscover  earth 's  reluctant  bowers. 


11 


Ill 


Yea,  strange  and  sad.     No  thrush  that  flutes  alone 
Amidst  the  thicket  but  reminds  of  thee, 

As,  silver  sweet  and  shy,  he  makes  his  moan ; 
No  single  bloom  midst  garden  pageantry 

But  doth  declare  thee  to  my  musing  mind : 

Thy  presence  gone,  thy  semblance  left  behind. 


IV 


In  this  thou  livest  and  shalt  ever  live : 

Of  all  the  beauty  of  the  breathing  days 
Thou  art  inextricably  a  part,  dost  give 

An  added  loveliness,  a  new  amaze ; 
Mine  in  the  meadows,  mine  beside  the  leas, 
Mine  when  I  meet  (since  thou  art  part  of  these) 
The  splendour  of  the  sunsets  and  the  seas ! 


Were  spring  and  summer  half  so  fair,  if  first 
They  came  into  a  world  that  knew  them  not? 
Should  we  receive  as  now  the  thrilling  burst 


12 


Of  bud  and  bird-song,  if  each  vernal  spot 
Had  never  known  the  resurrection  bliss  1 
Is  not  our  love  of  summer  made  up  of  this 
Welcoming  the  old  friend  that  summer  is? 


VI 


And  so  with  thee,-  the  beauty  and  the  joy 
Were  never  half  to  me  so  holy-deep 

As  since  that  thou  art  vanished,  comrade,  boy, 
Dear  singer,  singing  yet,  although  asleep. 

I  see  all  through  thine  eyes,  I  feel  thee  by, 

I  know  that  Memory  will  not  let  thee  die. 


VII 


Hark!  'Tis  the  river-lay  beyond  the  hill. 

How  often  when  we  flee  the  city- spell 
And  gleeful  turn  to  Nature,  thence  to  fill 

Our  souls  with  peace  and  joyance,  and  to  quell 
The  strife,  we  recognize  old  mother  earth 
As  calling,  calling  to  us  in  tender  mirth ; 
How  long  witholden  secrets  come  to  birth! 


13 


VIII 

Arthur,  thy  winsomeness  of  mood  and  mien, 
Now  treasured  up  in  hearts  that  still  are  strong, 

Must  gradually,  as  fade  the  leaves,  I  ween, 
Pass  with  those  hearts  the  fleeting  years  along : 

But  0  thy  golden  words !  they  still  shall  claim 

Long  life  and  honour  and  a  singing  fame ! 


IX 


Thy  golden  words !     Nay,  silver  were  they  too ; 

Betimes,  like  sounding  brass  they  summoned  us ; 
Again,  with  dulcet  pleading,  pierced  us  through 

Whenso  the  hour  was  soft  and  amorous ; 
Or  yet  again,  with  pomp  and  purple  pride 
They  seemed  to  open  up  down  vistas  wide 
All  ancient  glories  that  have  lived  and  died! 


What  pride  in  chanting  hath  a  forest  bird? 

Doth  any  sunset  with  most  spangled  dress 
Greeting  the  morn,  e'er  speak  a  haughty  word? 


14 


Is  not  all  nature  one  in  humbleness? 
So  wert  thou  humble,  priest  of  beauty,  dead 
Untimely,  leaving  us  discomforted. 


XI 


There  is  companionship  too  close  for  speech : 
Wordless  communion  is  the  best,  meseems ; 

Such  is  betwixt  us,  arid  our  spirits  reach 
To  touch  arid  mingle,  waking  or  in  dreams : 

The  union  deepens,  even  as  skies  at  eve 

Grow  mellow  when  the  garish  day- things  leave. 


XII 


The  green  of  marshes  hath  another  hue 

From  that  of  inland  meadows,  and  the  scent, 
Salt  of  the  sea  and  pungent,  interblent 

With  memories  of  sails  upon  the  blue, 
Comes  from  another  world  from  that  of  hay 
After  June  mowing;  more  unlike  than  they 
Life  seems,  companion  mine,  with  thee  away. 


15 


XIII 

I  hardly  know  if  sorrow  or  content 

Have  mastery  as  I  brood  upon  thy  loss : 
Such  comforting  large  thoughts  are  someway  blent 

With  haunting  pain ;  the  shadow  of  a  cross 
Is  all  uplit  with  radiance,  and  a  voice 
Weeping,  becomes  a  voice  that  doth  rejoice, 
Although  it  wots  not  it  hath  made  the  choice. 


XIV 

The  bronze  magnificence  of  autumn  woke 
In  thee  an  ectasy  that  rivalled  spring ; 

It  seemed  as  if  some  pent-up  rapture  broke 
All  bounds,  when  regal  summer,  on  the  wing, 

Paused  momently  to  hover,  and  became 

A  miracle  of  slumber  and  of  flame. 


XV 

Then  wert  thou  fain  to  weave  on  wonder  looms 
Utterance  of  joy,  stretching  out  eager  hands 
To  May  and  eke  October,  apple  blooms 

16 


Fallowing  with  asters,  in  such  cunning  strands 
Of  woven  fairness,  that  two-fold  delight 
Was  in  the  pattern  of  such  colours  dight. 


XVI 

There  came  an  eve  whose  colors  like  dim  strains 

Of  old  forgotten  music,  softly  stole 
Into  the  sundown  skies;  the  subtle  stains 

Of  grey  and  pink  and  russet  made  a  whole 
Harmonious  utterly ;  which  faded  slow 
Into  the  mist-and-gold  of  night,  and  lo, 
Even  the  stars  were  muffled  in  their  glow ! 


xvn 

Then  felt  I  need  of  thee  to  share  the  sight : 
It  was  too  delicate  to  win  the  praise 

Of  many  easy-moved  to  quick  delight 
In  obvious  skies  that  follow  usual  days ; 

But  this,  so  marvellous  in  mood  and  tone, 

This  afterglow  seemed  meant  for  us  alone. 


17 


XVIII 

Alas,  the  summer  waits  thee !    All  her  shows 
Heaped  up  and  heavenly  proffer  thee  their  boon, 

And  yet  in  vain  the  great  procession  goes ; 
Its  chronicler  no  more  beneath  the  moon, 

Nor  when  the  noon  is  high,  walks  as  of  yore : 

Thy  passing  hath  bereaved  both  sea  and  shore. 

The  verv  sea  seems  silent  evermore ! 


19 


II 


Of    THE 

UNIVERSITY 

or 


XIX 

The  summer  means  renewal  of  old  loves : 
Again  I  meet  the  friendly  wayside  things 

So  tenderly  recalled  from  other  springs, 
And  in  the  mellow  murmuring  of  ringed  doves 

I  seem  to  hear  remembered  messages ; 

It  is  another  youth  with  all  of  these. 


XX 

But  how  with  thee?    May  we  fond  mortals  take 
This  blithe  rejuvenescence  for  a  sign 

That  likewise  man,  death's  conqueror,  shall  break 
The  shackles  of  long  slumber,  drain  the  wine 

Of  ruddy  life  again,  resume  the  dear 

Deep  fellowships  he  knew  when  he  was  here? 


21 


XXI 

All  Nature  rises :  sap  climbs  up  the  bole, 

The  flower-hand  pricks  the  soil,  the  tiny  leaf 

Spreads  sunward ;  shall  this  struggling  wight,  the  soul, 
Alone  be  doomed  never  to  burst  its  sheaf! 

Gladly  to  grow,  soaring  elate  to  sing, 

Such  seems  the  fate  of  each  created  thing. 


XXII 

Two  inconceivables :  that  we  can  win 

Our  way  from  that  dread  land  where  silence  reigns, 
Where  all  our  kind  at  length  are  gathered  in, 

When  blood  no  more  leaps  buoyant  in  our  veins; 
A  place  where  there  is  neither  glee  nor  grief,— 
That  we  return  from  this,  surpasses  belief. 


XXIII 

But  also  it  is  dark  to  understand 

How  my  so  dominant  spirit  can  be  quenched 
Forever :  I  am  lord  of  all  the  land 

Today,  tomorrow  from  dominion  wrenched. 


22 


How  meaningless  it  looks,  the  bright,  brief  glory, 
Sad  with  the  shortness  of  all  human  story, 
Sweet  as  the  mocking-bird's  rich  repertory! 


XXIV 

Sometimes  I  step  into  the  scented  night 
And  feel  a  breathing  Presence ;  then  my  fears 

Vanish,  and  in  their  stead  comes  calm  delight; 
The  home-call  of  the  earth  is  in  mine  ears ; 

The  universe  throbs  love,  all  life  is  one, 

Swift  through  the  velvet  dark  I  find  the  sun. 


XXV 

But  the  mood  passes,  and  the  mystery 

That  shuts  us  in,  crushes  the  mounting  soul ; 

Passes  the  hope  as  well  of  me-and-thee ; 
The  fond  reunion  and  the  final  goal ; 

0  Arthur,  then  both  life  and  loving  seem 

The  obliterated  moment  of  a  dream. 


23 


XXVI 

Bespite  the  fear,  the  gnawing  unbelief, 
Thy  presence  were  no  miracle,  I  know, 

If  suddenly  I  saw  thee :  then  my  grief 
Would  he  as  it  had  never  been,  for  0 

'Tis  easier  far  to  believe  thee  close  at  hand, 

Than  banish  one  so  bright  to  Shadow  land. 


XXVII 

Once  when  the  spring  brought  lilacs  to  a  town 

Loved  of  us  both,  we  planned  how  we  should  wend 
Together  to  that  place  of  high  renown 

Where  sage  and  dreamer  dwelt,  and  tall  trees  bend 
Above  their  sleep,-  a  precious  spot.    We  said : 
" Tomorrow";  and  " tomorrow ";  spring- tide  sped, 
We  never  went,-  and,  Arthur,  thou  art  dead ! 


XXVIII 

The  heavens  were  kindlier  in  the  mythic  age : 

The  sun,  a  shining  god,  gave  gifts  to  men ; 
The  moon,  fair  women  wight,  was  human  then, 


24 


And  stars  were  jewels  on  the  poet's  page. 
One  who  had  lost  his  friend  might  converse  hold, 
Leaning  to  listen  up  those  courts  of  gold. 


XXIX 

But  we  are  wiser  now ;  the  sky  recedes 

And  all  its  friendly  populace  is  fled. 
Time,  Space,  and  Substance  mock  our  deepest  needs, 

The  heart  goes  hungry  for  the  old  faiths  dead ; 
So  must  I  seek  for  thee  beyond  the  bars, 
Higher  than  suns,  behind  the  outmost  stars. 


XXX 

But  seek  I  will !  and  faithful  in  the  quest 
I  swear  to  be  so  long  as  life  may  last. 

Of  all  chill  thoughts,  this  is  the  hatefulest : 

That,  slow  but  sure,  the  friendship-freighted  past 

Should  fade,  and  I  be  satisfied  to  live 

Unmindful,  nor,  as  once,  my  homage  give. 


25 


XXXI 

If  there  be  torture  for  the  dear  ones  gone, 
It  must  be  in  the  thought  that  they  are  quite 

Forgotten :  not  one  soul  to  reckon  on, 

Of  all  who  pledged  them  faith  in  death 's  despite. 

Alas,  Sad  Heart,  if  thou  return  to  see 

Another  in  thy  place  and  strange  to  thee ! 


XXXII 

Hear  me,  dear  Arthur,  by  whatever  shore 

Thou  pacest !     As  the  year  brings  round  the  rose, 
As  winter  wanes  and  all  the  harshness  goes 

Out  of  the  ground ;  as  balmier  airs  restore 

Midsummer's  soft  elysian  miracle, 

And  earth  resumes  the  witch-work  of  her  spell, - 


XXXIII 

I  shall  renew  the  sweet  old  habitudes 

Were  ours,  forget  thee  never,  cherish  fond 
Each  look  and  tone  and  word,  as  one  who  broods 


26 


On  something  sacred  from  a  land  beyond 
These  present  troublings ;  hear  the  oath  I  swear : 
Where  I  am  thou  shalt  be,  forever  there! 


XXXIV 

Summer  shall  be  the  bond  that  binds  us  twain, 
Midsummer's  purple  pleasance  be  a  tryst 

Both  of  us  haste  to  keep,  and  find  again 
Solace  and  comradeship  the  happiest 

That  men  ere  knew;  midsummer's  mounting  tide 

Of  beauty  still  shall  bear  us  side  by  side 


XXXV 

Unto  the  haven  where  all  dreams  come  true : 
For  in  this  bounty  of  the  gracious  year 

There  is  no  room  for  grieving,  every  tear 
Is  dried,  and  every  hurt  attended  to ; 

Together  in  the  summer,  thou  and  I, 

Surely,  such  brothership  can  never  die ! 


27 


Ill 


XXXVI 

Lover  of  trees  wert  thou,  but  loved  'st  the  best 
The  ancient  yew  a-muse  in  gardens  old ; 

Beneath  her  branches,  as  the  sun  rode  west, 
Came  many  a  dream  too  fair  to  quite  unfold, 

And  many  a  note  of  sorrow  and  of  glee ; 

Ineffable  fondness  seemed  'twixt  her  and  thee. 


XXXVII 

Was  it  because,  imprisoned  in  the  bole, 

Creature  of  sylvan  glades  and  twilight  moods, 

A  slim,  bright  girl  yearned  toward  thee  in  her  soul 
And  lured  thee  ever  back  to  walk  the  woods  ? 

If  so,  thou  shouldst  have  slept,  all  dreamings  past. 

Tranquil  beneath  the  shade  her  leafage  cast, 

Keeping  a  solemn  tryst,  loved  to  the  last. 


31 


XXXVIII 

But  no,  another  Presence  with  a  cry 

Deeper,  more  constant,  drew  thee  to  thy  doom, 

Haunted  thy  waking,  nixy-like  lurked  nigh, 

Sang  requiems  of  rest  within  the  tomb ; 

Strong  was  the  tree-call,  strong  through  all  thy  days, 

But  still  more  potent  were  the  water-ways. 


XXXIX 

The  water-ways  are  wondrous;  rivers,  lakes, 
And  bubbly  well-runs  in  the  inner  wood, 

Each  has  a  voice  that  merry  music  makes 
Or  mournful,  by  the  spirit  understood : 

Ever  the  ocean  with  her  organ  tones 

Sings  round  the  capes,  or  up  the  long  sand  moans. 


XL 


All  the  world  sang  for  thee ;  wood-wind  and  brass 
Made  tonal  harmonies  to  haunt  thine  ear ; 

The  thinnest  song  from  out  the  summer  grass, 
The  tempest's  choral-work,  and,  sphere  by  sphere. 


32 


The  stars  of  God,  chanting  their  rhythm  clear, 
All,  all  made  music,  all  to  thee  were  dear. 
Woods,  winds,  and  waters,  how  they  drew  thy  soul, 
Up,  out,  and  ever  toward  its  destined  goal ! 


XLI 

The  water-call  for  thee  was  constant  lure : 
No  Undine  in  a  fable  heard  more  sweet 

The  cool,  soft  croon,  nor  better  loved  the  pure 
Deep  invitation  where  the  mermaids  meet. 

So  wert  thou  fain  thine  hours  of  ease  to  spend 

Upon  the  bosom  of  this  calling  friend. 


XLII 

False  friend  and  fateful  day  when  thou  didst  glide 

Ghost-like,  at  twilight,  in  the  tiny  boat 
Out  through  the  shadows  of  the  eventide 

Into  the  open  waters,  there  to  float 
And  dream;  for  as  thou  dream 'st,  some  evil  thing 
Beached  from  the  waves  to  seize  thy  life,  and  bring 
Deep  sadness  unto  all  who  dream  and  sing. 


33 


XLIII 

The  ebon  trees  against  the  saffron  sky 
At  sunset-time  attended  thee;  the  day 

Was  fading,  fading,  tranquilly  away 

And  soon  the  stars  would  shine  serene  and  high ; 

Husht  were  the  waves,  the  looming  woods  were  ware, 

Clad  in  the  half  light,  rising  mystic  there, 


XLIV 

Of  thee  and  of  thy  handiwork ;  Fate  drew, 
Along  with  thee,  under  the  shadowy  piers 

Thy  last,  lost  story-song  wherein  anew 
Was  told  a  legend  out  of  elder  years : 

Sweet  Gold  Hair  lived  and  loved  beneath  the  sun ; 

Not  ours  but  thine  is  she,  till  Time  be  done. 


XLV 

Fain  of  the  summer  thou,  so  it  was  meet 
That  on  her  midmost  day  of  song  and  shine 

Thy  life  should  cease;  surely,  such  end  is  sweet: 
What  seemlier  close  could  heart  of  man  divine 


34 


Than  while  the  twilight  tints  ensoul  the  sky, 
Part  of  the  rapture  of  the  sun's  good-bye, 
Swan-like  to  sing  and,  singing,  so  to  die! 


XLVI 

I  see  two  shapes  that  greet  thee  on  the  shore 

Whereof  the  sun  shines  through  eternal  time ; 
Twin  lords  of  Beauty,  beautiful  to  name, 

Who  make  life  musical  with  lovely  rime ; 
Above  whatever  once  they  knew  of  shame, 
Despite  or  agony,  they  walk  and  smile, 
Princes  together,  such  forever  more. 


XL  VII 

Keats,  who  like  thee  died  young,  and  Shelley  too 
Whom  the  wide  waters  swallowed ;  surely  both 
Do  bid  thee  welcome,  feeling  nothing  loth 
To  hail  with  comrade  words  and  vision  true 
A  fellow  singer,  one  whose  flute  was  tuned 
To  such  a  sweetness  as  to  heal  death's  wound. 


35 


IV 


XLVIII 

Rises  before  me  the  sweet,  eloquent  face, 

The  lithe  form  once  again  is  at  my  side, 
His  speech  is  in  mine  ear,  the  moving  grace 
Of  his  dear  presence  warms  the  morning  tide 
Or  makes  the  evening  lovely ,-lo !  he's  there ! 
I  reach  my  hand,-  and  meet  the  empty  air. 


XLIX 

Nay,  but  that  air  shall  stir  to  the  rich  strains 
He  struck  upon  Life's  harp;  silence  shall  break 
Into  such  harmonies  for  Love's  sole  sake, 
As  when  a  flower  after  its  birth-pains, 
Bursts,  white  and  odorous  and  full  of  scent, 
Above  the  earth  to  bloom  for  man's  content. 


39 


Bloom  ever,  in  the  world's  song- garden  wide. 

Dear  one!    I'll  guard  thee  as  a  gardener 
Would  guard  the  growth  he  loves,  nor  let  beside 

Their  fairness  aught  unsightly  lift  or  stir ; 
Wi  ds  fraught  with  mignonette  and  orient  myrrh 
Shall  make  thy  dim  walks  fragrant,  thy  retreat 
A  place  for  lovers,  thy  meanderings  sweet. 


LI 


0  so  long  as  love  is  love,  and  glee 
Comes  with  the  morning,  and  rich  beauty  broods 
In  twilight  skies;  so  long  as  interludes 

Of  music  snatch  the  soul  from  misery; 

So  long  as  souls  anlmnger  for  delight; 

Arthur,  thy  words  shall  be  of  thrilling  might. 


LII 


The  soul  goes  single  that  hath  Beauty  known ; 

Lovers  and  troops  of  friends  were  thine,  but  they 
Could  not  restrain  thee  from  thy  very  own : 


40 


The  spirit- summons  from  the  Faraway. 
The  early  Arthur,  him  of  Camelot, 
Brooded  not  straitlier  on  his  mystic  lot. 


LIII 

/. 

Even  as  Arthur  of  the  Table  Bound 

Followed  the  Gleam  and  fought  the  good  fight 

through, 
Then  floated  down  the  mere  unto  the  sound 

Of  flutes  that  like  soft  wind  forever  blew, 
So  thou  didst  straight  embark  and  with  a  smile 
Float  on  the  bosom  of  the  After- while. 


LIV 

The  pure  of  heart  are  blessed ;  they  shall  be 

God's  chosen,  he  is  close  to  them  alone. 
Lover  of  earth,  now  heaven  hath  claim  on  thee, 

Boldly  thine  eyes  face  that  refulgency 
Of  more  than  mortal  keeness ;  for  thine  own 
Were  pure  indeed ;  forever  safe  thou  art, 
Because  thine  often-heavy  human  heart 
Eests,  circled  by  that  promise:  They  shall  see! 


41 


.    ;': 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBEARY, 
BERKELEY 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

Books  not  returned  on  time  are  subject  to  a  fine  of 
50c  per  volume  after  the  third  day  overdue,  increasing 
to  $1.00  per -volume  after  the  sixth  day.  Books  not  in 
demand  may  be  renewed  if  application  is  made  before 
expiration  of  loan  period. 


1927 


50w»-8,'J 


211014 


UNIVERST 


